Welcome Home
by jlm110108
Summary: Amita welcomes Charlie home from an overseas trip. Rated M for explicit married couple sex.


Disclaimer: I don't own the Numb3rs characters, and while I enjoy playing with them, I don't profit from them in any way.

Amita put down the journal she was reading and looked for the hundredth time down the concourse that led from customs. Charlie wasn't expecting her, so she had to make sure she caught him. A good friend had once described him as "modestly statured." Since she was even shorter than her husband, she stood on tiptoes scanning the crowd. There he was, weighed down by two suitcases, the strap of his overloaded carry on flung over his shoulder . He stumbled along numbly, dark rimmed eyes not focusing on anything.

"Charlie!" She jumped up and down, waving wildly.

He stopped, staring in her general direction. Finally, he saw her, and a brilliant smile lit up his tired face. She pushed through the crowd and embraced him, nearly knocking him off his feet. He dropped the suitcases, folded his arms around her and hugged her. "I missed you," he murmured into her hair. "I really missed you. I thought you had a class."

"I did. I canceled it."

"I'm glad you did. But why?"

"After you called me last night, I thought you needed a nice homecoming, and not a ride in a stinky taxi. You sounded like you were exhausted." She pulled away from him and picked up one of the suitcases. "Let's get out of here."

He put his free arm over her shoulders and pulled her close to him. "Have I told you I really missed you?"

She laughed and snuggled closer as they walked. "Once or twice. How was Oxford?"

"Beautiful as always. It only rained twice while I was there. And the conference was wonderful. Dan Snyder is doing some interesting work I can adapt to my cognitive emergence work. Oh, and Amos Titlebaum said to tell you he was very disappointed that you didn't come along."

Amita rolled her eyes. "He groped me the last time we were at a reception together."

"He did? That explains why he nearly choked when I told him we were married."

They arrived at the car and Amita popped the trunk. "I'll drive," she said as she helped Charlie lift the suitcases into the trunk. "You'd probably drive on the wrong side of the road."

"I was only gone a week. But I will take you up on that. I'd probably fall asleep anyway."

As Amita pulled into the driveway, Charlie stirred. True to his word, he had fallen asleep before they had reached the highway. She reached over and stroked his cheek. "We're home."

He turned and kissed her hand. "I love you," he murmured.

"Come on, sweetheart. I'm not going to carry you into the house."

He opened his door, and tried to get out. "Oops. I guess I should undo the seatbelt, huh."

Amita opened the trunk and pulled out his suitcases. "My goodness, Charlie, what did you pack?"

"I bought a few books. Here, I'll get those." He groaned as he picked up the suitcases. "I think the books multiplied while we were flying."

When they reached the bedroom, Charlie dropped the suitcases and flexed his shoulders. "Next time I'll have the books shipped back. Let the UPS guy break his back."

"You need to use the bathroom?"

"No. You go ahead," he said, looking longingly at the bed.

A few minutes later, Amita returned, wearing a lacy red cami and matching bikinis that she had bought the day Charlie had left for Oxford. Charlie lay on his stomach snoring softly. Smiling, she sat beside him and gently removed his sneakers and socks. He didn't even stir.

She knelt on the bed, straddling her sleeping husband and began to knead his shoulder muscles. He moaned softly, and she could feel the muscles beginning to relax. She pressed a little harder, seeking out the knots and working them until they loosened. She was so intent on her task that she jumped when he grabbed her right hand and pulled it to his lips. "Don't stop," he murmured. "That feels good."

She pulled her hand back and kneaded his shoulders once more, then slowly moved her hands down, massaging his shoulder blades, then gradually moved down his spine. When she reached his waist, she couldn't resist tickling him. He rolled onto his side, knocking her over and trapping her leg under him. In a heartbeat, he was straddling her, staring into her eyes. His gaze wandered down, and he gasped when he caught sight of the lacy cami. "Is that new?"

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I bought it for your welcome home party. Do you like it?"

He ran his fingers along the low neckline, then teased them across her nipple. "I love it," he breathed. He ran both hands along the lace. "But I love what's in it even more."

She reached down and grabbed the hem of the cami, ready to pull it over her head. He stopped her. "Leave it on for now." He unbuttoned his shirt then lowered himself on top of her, sighing as his chest touched the lace. He sat up again, and reached for the hem. "You're right. It's a little scratchy." He pulled the cami up and over her head and laid it gently on the pillow. Then he tossed his shirt onto the floor.

Amita ran her hands over his chest, down his stomach and slipped her fingers into the waistband of his jeans. "Let me get this for you." She unbuttoned the jeans and moved to undo the zipper, but rubbed her hand teasingly along the length of the zipper first. She giggled and bit her lip as he moaned and pressed against her hand. She squeezed once and then undid the zipper and slipped the jeans and his underwear down over his hips. When he was fully exposed, she took him in her hand and began to stroke him firmly, the way she knew he liked it. He closed his eyes and moved in rhythm with her strokes. Then he tugged at her panties. She lifted her hips so he could pull them down, and then kicked them off. He reached between her legs and began rubbing her. She opened her legs further and pressed herself against his fingers, losing herself in the pleasure that was coursing through her body. He bent forward and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking it and teasing it with his tongue. She let go of him and wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him against her roughly. Then she wrapped her legs around him, and reached down with trembling hand to guide him into her.

A few moments later, they lay, gasping, holding each other like they never wanted to let go again. Charlie collapsed on top of Amita with a sigh that seemed to emanate from the tips of his toes. When she could speak, she murmured, "Welcome home."


End file.
